Have you ever laid your eyes upon a lonely dusty lamp nestled in the corner? Let me tell you, the whispers it carries could light up the darkest of nights. "I've seen things," it murmurs, flickering intermittently, "that would make you want to close your eyes forever."
A cracked mirror boasts of secrets too. "I've reflected the truth of the world, but no one listens to my fragmented whispers," it sighs, edges sharp with untold tales. "Each piece of me holds a story of disdain."
If only walls could speak like the old wooden chair at your grandma's place. "I hold the weight of unspoken dreams,” it creaks, its legs aching from the pressure of stories untold. "People sit on me, but they don't know they sit on a mountain of memories."